Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
And then it happened. A strong, fluttering, rhythmic clenching deep inside her—a sudden, desperate suction that felt like her inner walls were actively milking him. It was her orgasm, triggered by the brutal, relentless stimulation.
The feeling was his undoing.
With a final, broken groan, Burn came. He erupted inside her—a hot, pumping flood that seemed to have no end. Jet after jet of his seed gushed deep into her womb, each pulse wracking his big frame with violent shudders. He poured himself into her, filling her, claiming her in the most primitive way possible, until he was utterly spent, his cum flooding her channel and immediately beginning to run out, a thick, white river tracing a path down her inner thighs, mingling with Bright’s release already there.
When it was over, he pulled out. The sight of her swollen, hard-fucked pussy, overflowing with his seed made him feel physically ill.
What have I done? he thought, his stomach clenching. I fucked her so hard—I was so fucking rough.
He stumbled back, collapsing onto his haunches, his head hanging low. He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t look at Bright. The scent of sex and his own release filled the air, a nauseating perfume of his shame.
He had done exactly what the monster wanted, and a part of him—the part poisoned by the pink drink—had loved every second of it…had reveled in her soft, broken moans and the way she was to weak to get away.
He had acted in the way of a Broken One—the name the Kindred gave to rapists who took what they wanted from a female without her consent.
Burn didn’t think he could ever forgive himself.
60
NOELLE
The violation wasn't over. It was a wheel, and Thune kept turning it—forcing them into new configurations of degradation.
Noelle’s body felt like a foreign country—a landscape of aches and oversensitivity, humming with the lingering effects of the pink drink and the brutal, thorough use by both warriors.
The air in the dungeon still reeked of sex—a thick, musky perfume of sweat, spilled seed, and her own arousal—a scent that filled her with a deep, complicated shame. She was just letting Burn and Bright use her over and over again—but it wasn’t like they wanted to. It was that Thune—the three-headed hijo de puta, kept making them use her and there was nothing she could do but submit and come over and over again while the drone whirred, taking pictures of it all.
“Very good,” Thune’s middle head rumbled, his six eyes gleaming with a perverse satisfaction. “But we’re not finished. We want to see the little female suck you both again. Like on the auction stage. Get on your knees, piggy.”
A fresh wave of humiliation washed over her, but it was a dull echo compared to the sharp, immediate fear of the shock collar. She knelt on the cold stone floor before the mattress, the rough texture a stark contrast to the soft black fabric she had just been sprawled upon. Bright and Burn stood before her, their cocks still hard under the relentless influence of the aphrodisiac.
The sight of them, so thick and hard and beautiful, sent a treacherous pulse of heat between her own sore, tender thighs.
Gods, what’s wrong with me? After all that… I still want them.
But it wasn’t like she blamed Burn and Bright, they couldn’t help what they were being forced to do. And she didn’t mind performing this act—not when it was just the three of them. It was the drone whizzing around filming and the evil, disgusting Trollox directing them that made what they were doing feel so low and dirty and shameful, she thought.
“Go on, piggy-wig. Take them both in your mouth. Show us how greedy your little throat can be,” the middle head commanded, taking a noisy gulp of wine.
Noelle looked up, meeting Bright’s pained, empathetic gaze and then Burn’s stormy, self-loathing one. She gave a tiny, resigned nod. Leaning forward, she opened her mouth. She took Bright’s length first, the familiar, clean taste of him a small comfort. Then, tilting her head, she guided Burn’s thicker, blunter crown to her lips, stretching her mouth impossibly wide to accommodate them both.
The feeling was overwhelming…the heavy, living weight on her tongue…the salty-sweet taste of pre-cum and their recent releases…the way her jaw ached with the strain.
The drone buzzed directly in front of her face, capturing every detail—the stretch of her lips, the flutter of her eyelids, the way her throat worked as she tried to swallow around their girth.
She heard their low groans and felt the subtle twitch of their shafts against her palate. Bright’s hand came to rest gently on her head, not forcing, just there. Burn stood rigid, his fists clenched at his sides.
Noelle moved her head in a slow, sucking rhythm, her tongue swirling around the dual intrusion. The lewd, wet sounds were magnified in the quiet room, and on the screen, she could see the obscene, beautiful image of her mouth stretched taut around the heads of their cocks. A strange, dark pride flickered within her at the sight, quickly followed by a wave of nausea.